


bullet rain

by EternalInfinitesimal



Series: 3am brain goes brrr fluff/angst time ahaha [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Dancing in the Rain, Fictional Disease, Fluff, I am not a doctor, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Some comfort, Unresolved, heart condition, i dont know what this is, its in the past, kinda sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29974116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalInfinitesimal/pseuds/EternalInfinitesimal
Summary: Clay lies in the rain and ponders his life decisions. He then has a sleep and makes more decisions.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: 3am brain goes brrr fluff/angst time ahaha [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2204661
Kudos: 5





	bullet rain

_Everything was falling around him._

The warm summer rain burned his skin as he lay in the middle of the pavement outside his small suburban house. It was numbing, and he could pretend it was a different time, let his mind wander and the sounds of the pouring rain transport him to that same day a month ago.

Had it already been that long? Clay wasn’t sure. The rain kept pouring, deafening in its fever. Loud enough to slip through the cracks of reality, and suddenly… 

He was dancing in the showers without a care in the world, and mismatched blue eyes stared back at him for the first time in what felt like forever. They laughed, and the tears disguised themselves as rain. He couldn’t feel anything but that day.

The cold pavement against his back falls into place as he recalls being pinned to the ground. He doesn’t remember how they got there or how long they lay there staring up into the dark clouds that day. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend that his smile was right next to him, still giggling about little nothings.

The static whispered his name as his lover asked _“what are we waiting for?”_

He took a deep breath and convinced himself he wasn’t crying.

_“You know Clay, it's okay to cry. Everyone needs to cry sometimes, it’s okay,”_

Voices echoed in his head, ones long gone and ones only a phone call away. The static turned sour when the sudden sound of a car whizzing by made him sit up straight in a panic.

_He’s falling again._

His heart was racing too fast to notice how the rain slowed to a slight drizzle and the sun poked through the clouds. Months turned to years and the laugher became not that of a lover but of a sister. 

Longing turned into guilt. Oh, the guilt. 

Cool sunny days only happen in Florida right after a rain. When the air is humid and the clouds block parts of the sun, there was a chance a fine breeze could brush through you. 

There was a time very similar to this one; years ago when Clay was naive and selfish. Some would say he’s still selfish. Some _-one_ , specifically, would say that. 

There’s nothing left to stop his thoughts anymore, they run rampant with unempathetic what-ifs and whens. It’s crushing. What would his sister think of him now? She would say he’s pathetic, that's for sure. Lying on the ground soaking wet thinking of all the things he could have done.

She’d say: _“Come on, Clay! What’re you fighting for?”_ and he would respond that he wasn’t fighting, and she would conclude that that was the problem. 

_“You spent our entire childhood with me, making sure that you were the best brother you could be because that's how you wanted me to remember you when I grew old and you were gone. But when the doctors told you I wasn’t going to wake up, you screamed about how it should have been you instead,”_

Now he realized there was no rain left to wash away his tears.

_“Sometimes, you wish you could join me already, I know you think about it all the time, but you have to stay. You have to fight because you have so much to live for. I would give everything to you if you let me, so please don’t waste the time you’ve been given,”_

_His time?_

What time did he have left? They said two months. _They said two months_ and yet here he is a month past his expiration date.

They said it was terminal. They said there was nothing they could do, he had known that since he was little. He’s always had an expiration date, but now what? 

They told him to live his life to the fullest, and he did. He gave everything to everyone he had ever met. But now he was 20, and he was never even supposed to make it this far in the first place.

He gave everything to him; to George, but he kept so many secrets as well. He was so excited that Clay was flying him out to Florida that week, completely unaware that a week after his visit Clay was going to die.

Well, he was supposed to anyways. Now, a month later, he is alive and has completely shut himself off from George. That day was supposed to be the final goodbye. No texts, no calls after that because _he was supposed to be dead._

If… if he were to call George again, would he even answer? Would he be so furious that he would ignore Clay? Even if he did answer, what would he say?

“Hi, sorry for disappearing off the face of the earth. I kinda thought I was going to die, but I guess I didn’t! So sorry about that one.”

Yeah, that would be great.

It was his fault anyway, he probably shouldn’t have let anyone that close in the first place, but George seemed so stunningly happy around him that Clay couldn’t take that smile away any sooner than he had to. 

Would George ever forgive him if he decided to call? Would he want to know either way?

He supposed it didn’t matter.

He _would_ have stayed with you.

It’s funny, it seemed to rain the entire time he had visited. I suppose that's why Clay loved the rain so much when for years it had been a reminder of all his mistakes. He taught Clay how to live rather than simply survive. 

They took shelter in a bus stop on the way home one day, and George shoved his lollipop wrapper into Clay’s hands, unwilling to carry it even though he had insisted on getting it in the first place. 

He smelled like artificial cherry and his cheeks were red just to match. 

Clay took it and sloppily folded it into rings, grabbing his hand and asking if he would marry him. His heart was racing, but it was a _joke_. 

Of course it was a joke, Clay knows he deserves so much more. George laughed anyways, and let him slip the ring onto his finger just as the bus arrived.

Clay brushed it off, as he assumed George had as well. That was until a few days later, when they were inside, sheltered and dry from the storms.

He told him of how he had always hated the showy proposals and big weddings people had. He went on about rings twisted out of nothing and lovers dragging each other through churches in the middle of the night. Papers signed and words spoken true in the dim lights of an empty cathedral. 

It seemed wonderfully romantic, in the most familiar way. While he spoke, Clay imagined he had done the same that day. Sopping wet, they had taken the bus to the nearest church and as the thunder rolled outside vows were whispered and uneven tears were shed. 

And then they live. Together.

He briefly wonders if George would have said yes, before realizing he would never have the chance. HIs heart would give out before he could ever give it away. 

He stands up now, and makes his way back inside his house, refusing to fall asleep outside again. 

It had gotten late, and Clay was tired and slightly cold from the chilling air conditioner running through his house. It was nice at first, but he made his way to his room and grabbed a pair of pajamas to change into. 

After changing into the dry clothes, he hung his wet clothes on the foot of his bedpost. He made his way to his bathroom, snatching a towel from the rack, and shut the door.

He had contemplated taking a shower but decided that it was too similar to the rain and he was too tired. Instead, he threw the towel over his hair, and opted to take one tomorrow. 

Another memory flashes, one of his hands in a towel drying someone else's hair. Too many things reminded him of George. Too many things made his heart hurt. 

He went to bed that night with a few too many regrets. He fell asleep with a few too many unrealistic dreams. 

Maybe, just maybe he should try again.

He wakes up tired the next morning, but he feels more at rest than he has been in a very long time. In the restless hours of the night, Clay decided he was going to call him. 

He hadn't decided what he was going to say, but he knew that he missed George. There were many, many, many missed messages and calls he refused to look at. Maybe he should text him first?

He hummed, leaning against his kitchen counter, warm coffee in one hand and phone in the other. No, George deserved a call. After all these months he deserved that at least. If he didn’t pick up, then Clay would leave him be. 

If he did pick up, an apology would probably be a place to start. An explanation might help as well. He stared at George's contact, finger hovering over the screen, deep in thought. 

A loud meow accompanied by a swirling tail at his feet snaps him out of his thoughts. He jumps, and suddenly his phone is ringing.

His heart races, “fuck,” theres no going back now he can’t just hang up after months of not calling, “ _fuck_ ,”

He pressed the speakerphone and set the phone down on the counter, not trusting his shaking hands to not drop it. 

Taking what little time he had, he shook out his hands and tried to prepare himself. What was he going to say, oh n-

The phone stopped ringing, and Clay almost thought it had gone to voicemail before a distrusting voice made its way through the speakers, “H..Hello?”

“Uh… Hi George,”

Another nerve-wracking beat of silence, and “Clay?!? Oh my god, are you okay? What happened? Where did you go?”

A nervous laugh escaped him, “Yeah, I’m okay. Nothing happened, I didn’t get hurt,”

“You… didn’t? I thought you died or something- you disappeared for a month!” He sounded exasperated, but it quickly switched into anger, “You had better have a damn good explanation for this Clay,”

“I… I wasn’t in the hospital, nothing happened I just… There’s a lot I haven't told you. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to hurt you any more than I had to,”

“Any more than you had to? You think ghosting me the day I leave after meeting you for the very first time and having the best week of my life didn’t hurt?”

“I know I hurt you, but G-”

“No. _No_. What reason could you possibly have for-” He seemed to stop himself, and take a deep breath, “I- just… give me a second,”

With a bated breath, he waited. He would wait forever if it meant George would still talk to him in the end. 

Though it felt like an eternity, it didn’t take long for George to speak up again, “You aren’t hurt,”

“No, I’m not,”

“Do you hate me? Did you realize I was annoying that we-”

“ _No_ , I don’t hate you. I could never hate you-”

He knew George didn’t believe him, “Then… why?” He sounded so hurt and confused. The sound pulled at Clay’s chest, it hurt to hear him so broken.

“I’m so sorry George, I should have told you,”

“Told me _what,_ ” he asked, and Clay took a moment then to gather his thoughts.

“Ever since I was little, I’ve had a heart defect. It messes with my blood flow and gives me all sorts of issues, but I’ve always known it was terminal… About a month before I flew you out, I had heart surgery to try and reopen the valves one more time but my heart has always been real fucked up. We waited, but it didn’t work. They told me I had at least three weeks left, so I flew you out as soon as you were available. I… was supposed to die the week after you had left,”

_Silence._

“... George?” he tried, wondering if the man was still there. He pulled the phone down from the countertop to where he was now sitting on the kitchen floor.

“I...you… you’re okay?” He sounded overwhelmed, and beyond worried.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m not sure how, but i’m okay.”

“ _Why didn’t you tell me?_ ” He sounded so hurt again and this time Clay’s chest ripped fully open, “Do you not trust me?”

“No, no, I wanted to protect you. I wanted to see you smile and I figured if the last time we spoke was absolutely wonderful then maybe that’s how you’d remember me.” _You were the best brother you could be because that's how you wanted me to remember you. “_ I thought maybe it would hurt less,”

“God dammit Clay that's not a decision you get to make!” He could hear muffled sobbing on the other end now, and the few tears Clay had left rolled down his cheeks.

“ _I know,”_ Clay whispered “ _i’m sorry_ ,” 

"It's... It'll be okay," George's voice cracked, " Just please don't push me away anymore Clay,"

Relief blossomed through his chest and even though he was smiling the tears kept falling, "I won't, I promise,"

_He would never stop falling._

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiii I hope you liked it I know it's slightly unresolved and kinda confusing but--- go check out my other fic if you like this one! It's alot better I promise. and happier. Leave a comment or kudos and it will make my day, love y'all <3


End file.
